


Before You Forget Me

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Breaking and Entering, Consensual Sex, F/M, Threats of Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-17
Updated: 2017-04-17
Packaged: 2018-10-20 05:39:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10656042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Oneshot. Rowena has taken something from the boys. Dean is going to get it back. He knew she would take it. She knew he would try to get it back. But what happens next is something neither expected. Takes places in S12 but out of canon. Might contain wee spoilers.Reposted due to editing. Enjoy!





	Before You Forget Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Marrilyn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marrilyn/gifts).



Before You Forget Me

Dean walked through the door of the four star hotel trying to swallow the groan stuck in his throat. He and Sammy used to love the idea of staying in a ritzy shin dig. But now places like this were too fancy for his enjoyment. He hated the way the matron looked down at his shoes and scoffed as he flashed his badge and demanded the room key for 411. Real cops had to deal with this. Cops trying to save lives.  
If he wasn’t simply running a quick errand, he might’ve given the man a few choice words behind closed doors. Instead he walked away with a forced smile and mumbled under his breath, “Sorry if an FBI agent’s shoes are so dirty from catching criminals that would love to slit your dainty throat.”  
The room key slid in and the room light clicked green. He was in. He opened the door slowly as he pulled out his gun. Again, it was just a milk run. But he wasn’t going to let his guard down; not with her. Never with her. He shut the door and locked it with the chain. The lights were soon flicked on. His gun pointed at every inch of the room and he checked the closet as well. She would hide in the closet. Might as well find a hiding place where she can admire her shopping trophies. He couldn’t help but look through them and take a trip down memory lane. There was the black dress she wore when she tried to kill him, the white and gold dress she had on when she trapped his brother in the cage (he still needed to make her pay for that), and the sparkly blue number she had on when she helped with Amara. Couldn’t seem to find that one. Was she wearing it today? He thought she had moved to more modern clothing.   
“Hm.”  
He admired a lovely green blouse hung along a brown pair of slacks.  
“That’s new.”  
Dean shook his head and slammed the closet door shut.  
“What am I doing?”  
His feet suddenly left the floor as he was thrown backwards into the wall next to the door. He gave out a moan as his back throbbed from the impact. He attempted to move off the wall but he was stuck. Again. Not even his head would bend off the wall. She always loved this stupid spell.  
Rowena emerged from the bathroom. The bathroom! He was going to check that place next!  
“It’s so rude of a man to enter a woman’s chambers while she enjoys a hot, well deserved shower.”  
Rowena smirked with so much confidence it made him roll his eyes. Her hair was wet and down to her back, and she was barefoot and somewhat shivering. It was apparent she changed quickly into her denim dress so she wasn’t undressed when she confronted her intruder. It was also apparent she wasn’t wearing anything underneath.   
“When I heard the click of the door I thought you were those awful British Men of Letters come for my head. I became so terrified I couldn’t move!”  
Her eyes widened and she gave a little pout as she lowered her head. She then lifted it while smiling and biting her lip.  
“But once I saw it was you, I knew I could relax.”  
She shrugged and smiled widely.  
Dean gave a fake, sarcastic chuckle.  
She walked over to the bed and pulled something from under the pillow. “Looking for this, dearie? I’ve been keeping it close. It’s very delicate, after all. You both owe me for helping you on the case you retrieved this from. Why can’t this be your repayment?”  
“Because it doesn’t belong to you, Rowena.” He spoke to her as if she were a child having it explained why she shouldn’t push other kids on the playground  
She glared at him while she laid her prize on the bed. The Black Grimoure. Sam noticed it was missing when they returned to the bunker last night. Ever since they discovered Dean’s picture missing from his room and found out Ketch was the intruder, Sam was always alert to make sure nothing else was missing. He mentioned the book and thought that maybe the BMOL took it because it was considered their unfinished business. They were, after all, the ones who wiped out the witches in their country. Dean shrugged and suggested his brother call Cas or Jody to help him scour the rest of the bunker while he went to “get back the damned book.”  
Sam told him he was coming with, because Ketch was too dangerous to take on alone. Dean didn’t even look back. He grabbed the keys to Baby, and walked towards the garage with a quick remark:   
“It’s not with Ketch.”   
He didn’t see Sam’s realization and sudden chuckle.   
Dean shook his head. “I knew you were gonna take the damn thing.”  
“And I knew you would try and steal it from me.”  
She cradled the book in her arms as if it were a newborn child.   
“I’m sorry steal?” Dean cocked his eyebrow.   
“Enough!” Rowena pinched her thumb and middle finger together and Dean felt a tickle in his throat. He could feel a cold chill enter into his mouth and then leave. He could still open his mouth, but there was no talking until she allowed it. He didn’t even try. He just rested against the wall.  
She walked closer. “I’m in no mood and in quite a hurry.”   
“Macy’s having another sale?” he wanted to say, but instead he just titled his head.   
“If you’re wondering where I’m going, I assure you it will be none of your concern. Thanks to a certain spell from this book you won’t remember ever meeting me.”  
Dean’s confusion was evident on his face.  
“Not that I haven’t enjoyed our little excursions,” she poked at his sides as she continued her monologue, “but things are getting a wee bit too heavy for me, and I won’t allow those wretched Men of Letters to find me and use me as their scapegoat for helping you and your brother.”  
He shook his head, looking straight at the other wall. He was lost in his own mind again. She could tell he wanted to get a shot in. And for some reason, she was curious.  
“Something on your mind, Dean?” She pinched her fingers again and he gave out a small, faint hiccup. She chuckled as he sighed.   
“Don’t you think you’re being a little dramatic?”   
Rowena glared at him.   
“They don’t even know your name. You’re not in any of the files and–“  
Rowena got so close to him, her eyelashes tickled his cheeks. He would be slightly intimidated by her anger had she not been standing at her tip toes. Still, he didn’t dare laugh.  
Their eyes looked straight into each other’s.  
“They’ll find me, Winchester. They always do.”  
She took this opportunity to caress his chest. She never did get to feel his abs. If she was going to make him forget everything, she intended to enjoy their last moments together.  
“You should know by now how ruthless they can be,” her voice started to whisper in his ear. Her Scottish tongue entranced him. “You’ve let so many of us go. Your hunter werewolf friend Garth, that wee little pup Kate, even those two witches you met. You hunt us when we are evil.” Their eyes met again. “They hunt us, when we breathe.”  
Dean cracked a smile. “Yeah, it’s pretty obvious you’re scared.”  
Rowena clicked her tongue in annoyance. “And how is that, big boy?”  
She didn’t notice his hand start to move behind his back and manage to retrieve what he hid there. He paused and looked at her with compassion which, for reasons unknown to her, made her shiver with fear.   
“That’s when you let your guard down.”  
His hand was now around the back of her neck as he turned the tables, pinning her against the wall. The dagger he kept hidden in his back pocket was now out of its sheath and against her pretty throat. She rolled her and pursed her lips. She should have known the spell was wearing off. She could feel the dread in her nerves, but, as always with this handsome hunter, she got cocky and wanted to make him squirm.   
“Alright here’s what’s gonna happen, Merida.” He removed his hand from her neck and placed it on her shoulder. “You’re going to give me the book, show me where that spell is, and burn it.”   
“Why’s it so important to you that I–“   
“Rowena. The book.”  
She held it tighter. “Just do it. Go ahead. Whatever you have in mind would be a kindness.”  
Dean rolled his eyes. “Sweetheart, you and I both know I’m not going to kill you.”  
“It would be merciful of you. I won’t die at the hands of those sadistic bastards.”  
“I can’t believe you’re this scared of Slendermen wannabes.”  
Rowena pushed her neck gently into the dagger’s blade, almost piercing the skin.   
“Either you kill me, or forget me.”  
Dean hated ultimatums. He always rebelled against them and found his own way. But he wasn’t about to make false promises. He tried and failed to protect so many people. He wasn’t going to shower Rowena with reassurances and calm words that would make her believe there was another way.  
He closed his eyes and sighed. He could see the confidence on her face. She had a plan. It involved her somehow overpowering him and taking his memory. He couldn’t remove the knife.   
She watched him contemplate his choices and was convinced of his decision. This would be her last night on earth.   
“Before you end me, I ask only one favor. One that shouldn’t be an inconvenience to you.”  
Dean squeezed the back of her neck. “I’m not finished thinking.”  
Rowena ignored him. “Please remove my dress.”  
Dean’s many thoughts went blank. He tried to process the request that just came out of her mouth. He needed to make sure he’d heard her right.   
“W-what?”  
Rowena scoffed. “This dress was very expensive and I’d rather you not get any of my blood on it. Please, kindly remove it, do not throw it, and place it on my bed. Then you can do what you must.”  
Dean was dumfounded. This was really happening. She was really asking this. He looked down to get his mind back on track and finally shrugged. He hadn’t made up his mind, she made the decision for him. Maybe this was the way to go.  
She closed her eyes as she felt his fingers unbutton her dress. He moved slowly down to her abdomen where he paused. She opened her eyes and found him staring at the ceiling. The unbuttoned dress was hanging on her shoulders, exposing everything. She felt a chill from her soaked hair dripping down her skin. But Rowena barely noticed. She was more focused on Dean and the torture she was putting him through. It was too much for him. This pleased her to no end and served as a great distraction. Almost too much of a distraction.   
Rowena did have a plan. She knew his chivalry would take over and he would look away. She had planned for this moment to trap him with a spell. Instead, she was breathless. She thought his hands, covered in scars from the many fights with monsters, would be rough and dirty, but instead they were gentle, clean and smooth. She found their warmth bringing her comfort from the freezing air, and allowed herself to get lost in the moment.  
Once the dress was unbuttoned, Dean moved to slide it off. The knife was still to her throat, yet the threat of it was gone. She watched as he moved the dress down to her thighs and then let it fall to the ground. She stepped out of it.  
Neither could look each other in the eyes. She started at him, breathing heavily as if she had just finished a long run. He let his other hand move a strand of hair that had fallen over her shoulders, and she did her best to keep herself from moaning with pleasure as he caressed her locks. She bent down to pick up the dress, but he stopped her.  
“I’m not gonna throw it.” He moved her chin up to face him. “But I’m not gonna lie it on the bed, either.”  
She glared at him and rolled her eyes before giving the dress a hesitant yet swift kick. It slid against the wall.   
She looked at him again to make certain he was satisfied. He wasn’t smiling, but he wasn’t glaring either. He was just studying her face, observing it like a scientist curious about his new find. She couldn’t understand what he was thinking. Was he changing his mind? She swallowed and looked him straight in the eyes. If she was going to die, she would make certain to face it with honor.   
Her thoughts left her when she felt him press his forehead gently against hers. She felt a sense of calm and closed her eyes one last time, preparing for the sting of the blade.   
Her lips felt a soft pressure. He kissed her with a chaste touch. Then again. The third time she was finally able to process what was happening and she kissed back. This time it was deep and passionate. Soon the lights were out.   
The blade was no longer at her neck. She took this opportunity to pull his jacket off; it fell to the floor with a soft thud. She pulled his red shirt down next, and he lifted his black shirt over his head. She watched him place his arm under her legs, and she didn’t fight him. As he cradled her towards the bed, she kissed his neck and gently yet hungrily trailed up to his ear. A part of her hoped her centuries of experience would impress him. She had skill all the other women could only dream of, and she'd be damned if she didn't showcase it.  
As he laid her head down on the soft pillow, he unbuckled his pants. She sat up and kissed his chest as she listened to him unzip and drop them to the ground. She then pulled down his boxer without even looking. This routine was not hard for her. She laid back down as he kissed her on her shoulders, then trailed his way down to her breasts and stomach. He kisses were soft and enticing. She relaxed and let herself enjoy this treat. Suddenly she let out a soft gasp.   
He was inside her. Slowly, gently he thrust against her thighs, prompting a loud, passionate moan to escape her lips.   
If she was going to make him forget her, he thought, he would make sure she would always remember this night.  
The kissing ceased as he continued to move inside her. He stared into her enchanting irises that seemed clouded over. Her legs trembled, but she was determined to continue. They rooms only light was a red candle Rowena had lit for the spell. But he didn’t need light. He knew where to caress, where to kiss, where to bite. Rowena found herself clawing on his back and he didn’t even flinch. At times she would hear a groan of pleasure mixed with hers. Neither tried to think of the consequences of this moment. Nor did they ask when these thoughts and desires for each other started. All that mattered was how long and how much they could take. And they intended to go all the way.  
The morning sun peaked though the closed curtains as Dean fell to the other side of the bed, his own legs shaking as much as – if not more than – hers. He looked after her, trying to grasp for air. Tenderly lifting her legs, he placed them under the sheets. The warmth of the comforter he covered her with startled her, but she was quick to calm back down, easing into his closeness. He laid beside her, placing his arm over her little waist. It was almost comical, how tiny she was. Yet that small creature held power he could never even begin to comprehend, and that was part of the reason he respected her so much. He may not have been her biggest fan, but he had to admit that she was something he'd never seen before – a force of nature to be reckoned with, a woman so strong she could bring godly creatures to their knees. If there was something to be respected, it was that.  
Rowena took a hold of his hand and closed her eyes, dozing off into pleasant sleep. Dean followed soon after, letting tiredness take him away into a land of no worry; a land filled with nothing but Busy Asian Beauties, pies, and, as of today, Rowena.

A knock on the hotel door stirred him awake and he shot up into a seating position. Finding the place next to him bare, he frantically looked around, searching for any sign of Rowena. The only remainder of her presence was the sweet smell of that expensive perfume, she always doused herself with, lingering in the stale air. A laugh escaped him as he threw the sheets to the floor and got to his feet. The evil bitch had left him!  
Not that he blamed her. If he were in her shoes, he'd leave, too. He was far from fond of the situation, but he understood her reasoning.  
He heard the matron say the room had been paid for, and was instructed to wake the “wee sleeping man.”  
After getting dressed, he swung the closets open and was crestfallen to find them empty. The bathroom was the same, clean and bare as if no one had ever been inside.  
Rowena was gone. And he had no doubt she took the book. He still remembered her, so she at least hadn't performed the spell, but there was still time for her to mess with his mind. A sly creature, that one was.  
As he went to place his gun and knife back into their respective place, he felt something he knew wasn't there before in his back pocket. A piece of paper, it seemed. He opened it up, expecting a letter of sorts from Rowena. Instead, it was an old page with symbols and ingredients.  
Dean shook his head. She took the book, but left the spell. So, he should count that as all good, right?  
He placed the folded paper back in his pocket and marched out the door.  
Hell, no.

**Author's Note:**

> This was a dream I had a few weeks ago and now it's become my first published work. For my wonderful Mariana. You helped me find the courage to publish and you listened to all the crazy ideas. And thank you for helping me with editing! Love you!


End file.
